Improvisation Italian-Style

Roasted Red Peppers with Mozzarella, Anchovy, and Hyssop

Every spring I plant one new herb. Something uncommon, often an herb I have no idea what to do with. I’ve grown angelica, lovage, epazote, mentuccia. I’ve learned to love a few of them; others I’ll never bother with again. This year I chose hyssop, an ancient Southern Mediterranean and Middle Eastern herb in the mint family. Hyssop is so ancient it’s mentioned in both the Old and New Testaments. In Psalms 51:7 David says, “Cleanse me with hyssop, and I will be clean; wash me, and I will be whiter than snow.” Well, let me tell you, I tried this, and it didn’t work. My skin remains the same old Mezzogiorno greenish gray. Possibly David didn’t mean physical cleansing, rather he was asking God to cleanse him spiritually as he confessed his sins of adultery and murder. I’m not sure how it can be determined that the herb I’m now growing on my deck is the exact one in the Bible, but contemplating the history of herbs is one of the reasons I love growing them and cooking with them (did my great-great-great grandparents in Southern Italy flavor eggplant with oregano like I do? Did the oregano taste the same? Did they use hyssop?)

My hyssop is growing straight up and strong. It’s just starting to bloom bright purply blue flowers. It tastes to me like a mix of thyme and oregano with hints of summer savory and an undertone of camphor. Taking a sprig to chew, I find it harsh at first and ending with a numbness on my tongue. It’s supposed to be the original dried herb used in za’atar, the Middle Eastern mix that also contains sesame and sumac. Nowadays you’ll more often find za’atar made with dried oregano or thyme (at least that’s what the packages say), but the three herbs are used interchangeably in the Mideast, so I imagine you get what’s available. I can’t say I can make it out by taste, but evidently hyssop is one of the chief flavorings in Chartreuse, that strong green liquor made by Carthusian monks. I love it in a martini in place of dry vermouth.

Note that true hyssop, which I’m growing, is not the same as anise hyssop, a North and Central American wildflower, not technically an herb at all. Anise hyssop has leaves and flowers that do taste of anise but that also have, in my opinion, a strong undertone of gasoline. I grew that for the first time last year. It attracted a lot of bees, which was good, but its flavor was a drag. After I ate the flowers in a few salads, I was done. That’s when I decided to try the real hyssop.

Jekka McVicar, the best known herb farmer in England, is someone I often consult when faced with an unfamiliar herb. I learned from her that there are all kinds of medicinal uses for hyssop, most pretty ancient and none confirmed by Western medicine. Herbalists use it as an antiseptic (there’s that cleansing thing again) and to sooth sore throats and asthma. While reading through Jekka’s hyssop entries, I came across her recipe for roasted peppers filled with cherry tomatoes, hyssop, and anchovies. I knew immediately that pairing the strong herb with sweet peppers and anchovies was absolutely right, so I played around with the concept, adding mozzarella and other things to make it more a solid meal. I’m really happy with the way the herb came through, rich and savory, with no medicinal tone at all. Now I know that I can use hyssop pretty much any time I’d reach for thyme or oregano or summer savory. Herbal expansion calling from the souls of dead ancestors.

Roasted Sweet Peppers with Mozzarella, Anchovy, and Hyssop

(Serves 6 as a first course)

3 red summer bell peppers, cut in half and seeded
Extra-virgin olive oil
Salt
2 medium summer tomatoes, seeded, cut into small dice, and then drained
A big ball of mozzarella (about a pound), cut into small cubes (you won’t want a just-made milky cheese, it would give off too much liquid during cooking, so buy a good one earlier and stick in in the refrigerator for a few hours to firm up)
1 large summer garlic clove, minced
6 oil-packed anchovies, roughly chopped
3 long sprigs hyssop, the leaves lightly chopped (or use a mix of fresh oregano and thyme), plus a few hyssop flowers or nice looking sprigs for garnish
Black pepper
A splash of dry white wine
¼ cup grated pecorino Toscano cheese
½ cup homemade breadcrumbs, not too finely ground

Preheat the oven to 425 degrees.

Put the pepper halves on a sheet pan, cut side up. Sprinkle them with olive oil and a little salt. Roast them until they just start to get tender and fragrant, about 10 minutes (you don’t want them soft and collapsing, so rescue them before that). Pull them from the oven, and let them cool a bit.

In the meantime, put the mozzarella, tomato, garlic, and anchovies in a bowl. Add the hyssop, black pepper, a tiny bit of salt (remember that the anchovies are salty), and give it all a drizzle of olive oil. Toss.

Fill the peppers with the mozzarella mix. Drizzle a little white wine over each pepper. Mix the breadcrumbs with the pecorino, and sprinkle that over the peppers. Give them another little drizzle of olive oil and a touch of salt.

Bake until the peppers are tender, their insides are gooey, and the top is lightly golden, about 15 minutes. Garnish with the remaining hyssop. Serve right away.

Welcome to Ericademane.com

I am a chef, food writer, and teacher who specializes in improvisational Italian cooking. I am the author of The Flavors of Southern Italy and Pasta Improvvisata, as well as Williams-Sonoma Pasta, which is available at Williams-Sonoma stores. A member of the Association of Culinary Professionals and the Italian-based International Slow Food Movement, I live in New York City. I offer private cooking classes, which you can learn about here.